Smooth Moves
by skittlesandstuff
Summary: Santana Lopez is among the most popular at McKinley High. Brett Pierce isn't so lucky. Can the geeky dancer still get his girl? Genderswap!Brittany.
1. Smooth Moves and Beautiful Girls

**Summary: Santana Lopez is among the most popular at McKinley High. Brett Pierce isn't so lucky. Can the geeky dancer still get his girl? Genderswap!Brittany. **

**A/N: Guys, I'm sorry to say that KISG and WFLHP are officially on hold. I don't plan on abandoning them completely, as I hope to never do that with any of my stories, but I just can't find the inspiration to write more chapters right now. I wrote myself into a corner, if that makes sense. But I have been working on a multi-chapter story for a few weeks now, so I will have a new update weekly for this story!**

**Please forgive me, all! I promise, this story will include the humor and bits and pieces of certain information that both of my other stories has/had. **

**I feel like there have been a lot of Genderswap!Santana stories lately, so I thought I'd take a shot at writing a Genderswap!Brittany for a change of pace. **

**So, without further adieu, the story!**

**Chapter One**

**Smooth Moves And Beautiful Girls**

Brett Pierce walked down the crowded hallway of McKinley High with a broad grin on his pale face and a skip in his step, one hand fiddling with the strap of his backpack and the other sweeping sandy blonde hair out of his eyes.

He really did need to get it cut.

His dad had told him just that morning that he was beginning to resemble a golden retriever.

As if that was a bad thing.

Brett loved dogs.

Plus, he was good at playing fetch.

It really was a win/win situation.

His smile remained intact even as other students turned to point and snicker at him. It's not that he was unpopular, per say. he just wasn't the _coolest _kid on the block.

The blonde-haired boy was halfway to his locker when he felt a rather rough tap on his shoulder, causing him to spin around in confusion.

He didn't even have time to open his mouth before his cheeks were slapped bitterly with blue syrup and ice chunks.

"Why don't you dance your way over to the girl's bathroom, _Twinkletoes_!" A gruff voice snickered from behind him, the sound of two hands high-fiving following shortly after.

Okay.

He _was _pretty damn unpopular.

Instead of getting upset or breaking down in tears, Brett simply took off his glasses, wiped the sticky liquid from his eyes and shook out his blonde locks, effectively showering his tormentors with the slushie as well.

"Mm, blueberry. My favorite." Brett beamed, saluting with two fingers before carrying on his way, leaving two shocked boys behind him.

The thing about Brett Pierce, was that the eighteen year old never seemed to be in a bad mood. Whether he was just slushied, called a horrible name, or shoved into a locker, the perky boy always remained upbeat and ready.

Some called it charisma.

Most just called it drugs.

Definitely drugs.

"Yo, Brett! Wait up!"

This time the dancer turned happily, recognizing his best friend's voice anywhere. He watched amused as Sam bustled and elbowed past the huddles of students in his way, his large lips as large as ever.

And damn, were they large.

Brett had met Sam in kindergarten, and instantly the two had hit it off.

Sam being the weird kid who tried to do bugs bunny impressions and Brett being the boy who did pirouettes at recess.

Needless to say, there weren't many options for the two.

But fate would have it that the two would become each others greatest allies, and a seemingly unbreakable bond had been sealed ever since.

"What's up, bro?" Brett asked once Sam had gotten closer, going in for a one-armed hug.

"Woah!" Sam jerked back quickly, putting his hands up and scanning the area around him. "We're already teased constantly, do we want to add gay to that list?"

Brett rolled his eyes and turned on his heel, continuing on his path. Sam followed quickly behind. "It's high school, they'll always make something out of nothing. 'Sides, I'm not opposed to trying-"

"Shhh!" Sam elbowed his friend in the gut, eliciting a grunt. "Some things are better left unsaid at the moment, yeah? Yeah."

"Did you need anything, Sam?" Brett asked shortly, annoyed at his friend shutting him down again.

Even though the large-lipped boy was one of Brett's best friends, he couldn't help but feel a little hurt when it came to his friend's acceptance of his sexuality. It's not that Sam _didn't _approve, he just chose to act as if that factor simply...didn't _exist. _

"Patience, young pattawong," Sam's smile was back in full force, "First of all, you look like Cookie Monster's hair dresser mixed up your hair dyes. Aren't you going to change?"

Of course Sam would use a Sesame Street reference.

He was afraid of hugging a male, but Sesame Street?

Fuck yeah.

Loud and proud.

"I didn't bring an extra shirt today, so no. Anything else, Samuel?"

"Someone's a bit crabby today," Sam remarked, raising an eyebrow. "I just wanted to know if we were still on for Breadsticks later tonight? Then video games back at my place?"

"Yeah, sure!" Brett replied more enthusiastically, excited at the idea of playing games with his friend. He began to unconsciously bounce just a bit more in his steps. "Meet you there at six?"

"Six it is." Sam nodded, checking the time on his phone and turning down the opposite hallway. "Later, Brett." He called over his shoulder.

Brett shook his head fondly and began fiddling with his locker, opening it and taking out a Chemistry book. He glanced to the side quickly out of habit, and did a complete double take.

Jesus.

Coming down the hallway was a beautiful brunette, eyes so dark that they nearly rivaled the night sky. Her gorgeously curved body was complimented by a tight cheerios skirt and a top that you could barely even consider a shirt. Long, tanned legs strutted forward with purpose, and her shiny black hair was tied up into a high ponytail that swished back and forth with every step.

Santana Lopez.

AKA the school's most popular cheerleader.

AKA Brett's crush since elementary school.

He had basically fallen for the girl on the first day of kindergarten, the first day he had met Sam as well. The little blonde-haired boy had just been dropped off by his mother, and was sat by himself at table three, watching as more kids trickled in one by one.

And then _she _came in.

With her barbie shirt and overalls, her hair pinned back neatly with butterfly clips. Her tan little hand clutching a princess lunchbox and the other holding a Dora the Explorer backpack.

Already, at age five, Brett knew he had just found the girl of his dreams.

As the years passed, and the two grew up, they had never had more than two encounters with each other. One being when Santana had dropped her pencil in the fifth grade and Brett had gracefully, and clumsily, picked it up. And the other being their freshman year of high school when Santana had asked Brett for a piece of paper in Geometry.

Brett sighed happily.

Memories.

Now, watching as the Latina goddess drew nearer, he quickly patted down his now-sticky hair and attempted to straighten out his Zelda t-shirt, preparing himself for eye contact.

_Come on, Brett! Just say something! Charm her! Anything! _

And here she comes!

In three...

Two...

One...

Brett tried to smile as seductively as possible, leaning back against his locker to head nod casually and go for the "oh, I see you there. Or do I?" type look.

And it worked perfectly.

Or it would have.

If he hadn't left his locker door open, which he was now falling into with a loud crash and a strangled cry.

All that could be seen was two legs sticking out of the metal compartment, a dazed and confused Brett sitting inside.

What even just..._what_?

"He is _such _a loser." He heard one girl whisper, giggling to her friend.

He peered dizzily out of the open door of his locker, noticing it was Santana and another cheerleader strutting past.

He inwardly punched himself.

So much for puling out the moves.

He watched sadly as Santana giggled quietly herself, glancing in his direction. But there was something different about her giggle, as if it wasn't meant to be cruel.

"Hey, Brett," Santana said softly, giving a small wave of her hand. Her friend simply rolled her eyes, grabbing her by the shirt and pulling her forward.

"Come on, Santana, we're going to be late for practice."

And with that, the two were walking away with their back towards Brett, who was currently staring in awe.

He still totally had the moves!

Score one for Pierce!

* * *

**A/N: and that's the beginning of this story! I know a lot of exciting things didn't happen, but I needed to establish the characters and their relationships first. Review maybe? Tell me what you liked, or didn't? Thanks for reading, guys!**


	2. Football Goals

**A/N: So, my computer sucks. Horribly. I spent weeks looking for this chapter and couldn't find it, so I had to re-write the entire thing with the small amount of time I had on my hands. Thank you to the reviewer who suggested an idea that was used in this chapter, it was much appreciated!**

**Yes, it's not _very _long. But I didn't want to keep you beautiful people waiting any longer. :D**

**Chapter Two – Football Goals**

* * *

"Earth to Brett!"

The blonde-haired boy in question was startled out of his trance by a soggy french fry bouncing off of his forehead. Brett shook his head and blinked dazedly, turning to lock eyes with Sam who was now smirking across the table at him.

Well, what a waste of a perfectly good french fry.

Kids in Africa would have loved that french fry, thank you very much.

"Hm?" He replied distractedly, finding his eyes drifting back across the cafeteria to the table with girls covered in Cheerios uniforms.

Sam squinted his eyes and attempted to follow his friend's focus, his smirk growing as he spotted the target. "Santana, huh? It's been years, man. Go talk to her!"

"She'd never be interested in a guy like me." The dancer sighed sadly, his head dropping slightly in defeat. "I mean, girls like her, they want guys on the football team who can provide status. Not tap dancing geeks that love ducks and only friend is a guy who does a shit impersonation of George Bush."

"Hey!"

"No offense, of course." Brett amended quickly, but inside?

Yeah, Sam did a _shit_ impersonation.

Sam knew his best friend had the hots for Lopez from the minute Brett tripped on the playground while trying to watch Santana swing in the first grade.

He snickered quietly.

If he thought about it long enough, that would sound almost dirty.

Maybe it was just him.

Probably.

Anyways, he did care deeply about his friend, even if he never really showed it outside of a warm pat on the back.

Brett wasn't like other guys, where their tough exterior prevented hurt from seeping in. The taller blonde was very sensitive and didn't know the world wasn't all pixie dust (A phrase he picked up from Brett, he swears) and rainbows. Sam had seen Brett at his very worst and he never wanted to see Brett hurt like that again.

_He _was the one who held Brett night after night when it happened, as he bawled his baby blues out. _He _was the one who had watched Brett become a zombie for nearly two years. Though Brett tried to hide it with a smile that would convince any other, Sam knew he was hurting for quite a while.

Letting Brett try for the head cheerleader brought him so much apprehension. In a school like this, one of them was bound to get hurt. And he'd be damned if it was Brett.

But if helping Brett out would make him happy, Sam would do it.

"I'm going to help you out, Brett," Sam cocked an eyebrow and smiled as if he was the fucking cat that ate the canary, "You said she only dates guys on the football team? So, join the football team. Simple."

The two nerds stared at each other for a moment.

And another.

Both simultaneously burst into laughter, slapping the lunch table with their hands and doubling over their lunch in hysterics. They laughed until they couldn't laugh anymore.

Oh Jesus, tears were starting to form.

"Fuck, sometimes I'm too funny for my own good," Sam spoke between bouts of slowly dissolving laughter.

The large-lipped boy slowly began to realize that he was now the only one laughing, as Brett was staring into space as if he had found the answer to all of his problems.

Oh no.

_Hell no!_

"Brett, think about this before you-" Sam started quickly, but was just as quickly cut off.

"Thanks, Sam! I owe you one!" Brett called over his shoulder as he jogged, and tripped once _mind you_, through the double doors and out of the cafeteria.

Sam was silently wondering if he should call 911 now or later.

* * *

Coach Bieste stood confused, eyebrows scrunched together in concentration.

Or in stomach cramps.

That taco she had out of the cafeteria could be making an exit very soon.

Either way, she watched as a tall blonde boy bounced happily on the balls of his feet, eyes glinting with excitement and admiration. For what, she had no idea.

"Let me get this straight, kid," She scratched her temple and squinted her eyes, "You want to join the football team? And you've never even played the game before?"

"Yes, mam!" Brett replied enthusiastically, nodding in rapid agreement. "But I can move real good and I just know I can score lots of goals!"

Well.

Okay then.

At least he had spunk?

Coach Bieste glanced out momentarily to the field, watching as her football team ran lap after lap. McKinley's football team was her most prized possession, and she would never do anything to jeopardize their success.

But as her eyes returned back to Brett Pierce, his own baby blues filled with such childlike excitement, she couldn't find it in her heart to reject the poor boy flat out.

"Alright, Pierce," She motioned her hand out to the field, "We'll give you a fair try out. No going easy on you though. Would Santino High go easy on you, after all?"

Like hell if Brett knew.

He _just _figured out that you didn't use a bat in football.

Eh, he was learning.

With a small jump of excitement, he nodded his consent joyfully and practically sprinted to the locker rooms to find a jersey that would fit.

Though many might agree that picking out a coffin that would fit could be better suited for that moment.

* * *

Brett had to admit, football was no easy walk in the park.

The second the dancer had stepped foot onto the field sporting a football jersey, he was immediately tackled to the ground by Azimio Adams and ate about a pound of dirt.

And this was when he wasn't even _playing _yet.

But staying true to his natural character, he flung up woozily and gave two thumbs up to the coach with a broad, wobbly smile.

It honestly looked more like four thumbs to Brett, but he'd deal with that later.

Unless he had a serious head injury and died before that.

Because that would suck ducks.

"Pierce, get your pansy butt over here!" Bieste yelled in his direction, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

After shaking his long locks out again to clear his head, he jogged his way over to the formation of hunched over football players, looking around confusedly.

He leaned over slightly to whisper in number nine's ear. "Does everyone have the Hershey squirts, or-"

Finn Hudson, the team's quarterback and the only football player to ever be somewhat civil towards Brett shook his head and grabbed him by the shoulder. "Dude, just stand over there and catch the ball when I throw it to you, okay?"

"Got it!" Brett was nearly beside himself with energy, crouching down in the same way all the other guys were.

"Ready!"

He'd catch that damn ball and run it all the way to the moon and back-

"Set!"

Then Santana would fall in love with him and they'd go riding into the sunset on a unicorn-

"Hike!"

All he had to do was catch-

And down he went like a sack of bricks.

Coach Bieste cringed in sympathy as she watched the Pierce boy be dog piled, sliding back a few feet on the grass before his body was completely covered by bulkier players.

She couldn't decide what his motives were. But if her hunch was correct, she knew it had to do with a girl.

Shannon Bieste was not stupid. No teacher at McKinley was, though they often acted like they were oblivious to the bullying at school. She knew Brett Pierce was among the 'unpopular' and had never even touched a football before today.

She also noticed the side glances that Santana Lopez girl was throwing him from across the field where she was currently having Cheerios practice.

She put two and two together.

Because she's a 'Bieste' like that.

Shannon quietly chuckled to herself.

She's fucking hilarious.

"Let's run it again, Pierce! One more time. You got this, kid!" She yelled encouragingly as the blonde-haired boy wobbled to his feet once again.

Brett nodded his consent and despite the ache in his body, settled himself down into position once again. He had to do this to get his girl.

Icy blue eyes cut over down the field, shocking him when they connected with the deep brown depths he loved so much. It lasted for only a split second before Santana turned away, but it was enough to motivate him.

It was time for Brett Pierce to shine.

"Ready!"

No more name calling, no more falling into lockers.

"Set!"

He wasn't nothing. _They _were nothing.

"Hike!"

His feet were moving before his brain was, pure adrenaline coursing through his body and thundering through his legs as they pushed faster and faster down the field. He twisted around slightly and somehow managed to keep the same quick pace, waiting for the ball to be thrown.

Bieste was simply shitting her pants with surprise.

The kid could _run_.

Finn checked out his open players, noticing one much farther down the field then all the others, and threw the ball with all his might.

It was as if time stood still and the earth had quieted it's symphony, the only sound heard was the pumping of Brett's heart in his ears, the soft drip of sweat falling from his forehead.

The entire team watched as the football cut through the air, fell back to earth and cradled itself directly into Brett Pierce's arms.

Finn fist-pumped with happiness while others around him simply stared in awe, the Coach included.

All Brett could do was seek out that beautiful face he had fallen for years ago, smiling happily when he saw her down the field, waving in his direction as he continued to sprint toward the goalpost.

Aw, she cared enough to wave.

She's so sweet like that.

But why did her face look so panicked?

It was like she was-

Again, the entire team, and the Cheerios, all cringed when Brett Pierce smacked head first into the goalpost, wavering slightly in his steps before falling backwards onto his back.

Even unconscious, the smile was still placed firmly on his lips.

His dream girl waved at him.

And that was all that mattered.

Even if it was just to warn him of impending doom.

* * *

**A/N: The next chapter should be much longer, guys! Sorry about the wait, but I hoped this made up for it! More Brettana interaction next chapter!**


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